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by Friend and Foe 


From a pen portrait by Wyatt Eaton 

and engraved by Timothy Cole 

for the Century Magazine in 1877 

by Friend and Foe 

Democratic Manual of 1864 

Edited by Robert J. Cole 

The Gold Medal Library 

London NEW YORK Calcutta 

Copyright, 1922 
Williams-Barker Co. 

To my Father and Mother 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2010 with funding from 

The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant 



The biography of Abraham Lincoln is 
scattered through some thousands ot 
books, pamphlets and magazine articles- 
No single work affords a complete view 
of the subject. Perhaps none could. But 
if I vvere asked, after years of reading in 
this field to name the most helpful testi- 
mony by a single witness, I should name 
that of Noah Brooks. 

The paper selected for this volume was 
written for Harper's Magazine in 1865, 
while the facts were fresh in the author's 
mind He wrote other articles, later, for 
Scribner's and a series for the Century, 
which was afterwards published in book 
form All these are good, far more 
spirited and full of anecdote than his 
formal life of Lincoln. 


Brooks himself wrote me, years ago, 
that the Century Papers, republished in 
the volume "Washington in Lincoln's 
Time," were the fullest record of his days 
with the President. From them I have 
quoted the vital passage relating to the 
composition of the Gettysburg address. 

But the single article in Harper's will 
always have a unique place in Lincoln 
material. It has been often quoted, but 
never, so far as I know, reprinted com- 
pletely in any book. 

Noah Brooks went from Maine to 
Illinois, where he met Lincoln in the Fif- 
ties. Then he moved west to Kansas and 
finally to California. There he 'estab- 
lished a paper in Marysville and when 
the war broke out he was sent to Wash- 
ington as correspondent of the Sacra- 
mento Union. Lincoln was quick to re- 
new the old acquaintance and Brooks had 
a better right than most men to claim 
that he knew Lincoln. My father had 
met Brooks in Marysville and he used to 
say to me as we talked of Civil War 

"Noah Brooks was one of the few men 


about the President who never asked any- 
thing for himself, and Lincoln rewarded 
him by giving the best gift he had to 
offer — his friendship." 

They met almost daily, at the White 
House, about the offices of the govern- 
ment departments, on a river trip. I 
think one of the reasons underlying their 
intimacy was the fact that Brooks had 
lost his wife and child, as Lincoln had 
lost his sweetheart, Ann Rutledge. Brooks 
never refers to this. 

If Lincoln had lived he would have 
appointed his friend private secretary, to 
replace Nicolay. After the war Brooks 
went to the New York Tribune. John 
Hay was on the staff during that period. 
One day the author of "Little Breeches" 
noticed his comrade hurrying through the 
room with an armful of volumes from 
the library. Instantly he cried, 

"'Books in the running Brooks!'" 

I think that deserves to go down in his- 
tory along with Charles Lamb's quota- 
tion of Campbell's line when somebody 
asked who was falling downstairs — 


Tis Iser, rolling rapidly!' " 

It was Brooks who saw, with Ike 
Bromley, the street-car placard, which 
the two newspaper men reduced to verse 
— almost no change was needed. 

"Punch, boys, punch with care! 
Punch in the presence of the pass- 

A blue trip slip for an eight-cent fare, 
A buff trip slip for a six-cent fare, 
A pink trip slip for a three-cent fare. 
All in the presence of the passingare." 

Mark Twain wrote a successful piece 
about it, called "A Literary Nightmare." 
But Brooks and Bromley were the ones 
who started that popular jingle. Is it 
any wonder that the fun-loving Lincoln 
enjoyed the company of one who was 
both intelligent enough to see clearly the 
great issues of the war and also capable 
of relaxing into such boyish foolery? 


Fourscore and seven years ago our 
fathers brought forth upon this continent 
a new nation, conceived in liberty, and 
dedicated to the proposition that all men 
are created equal. -Now we are engaged 
171 a great civil war, testing whether that 
nation, or any nation so conceived and 
so dedicated, can long endure. We are 
met on a great battlefield of that war. 
We have come to dedicate a portion of 
that field as a final resting place for those 
who here gave their lives that that nation 
might live. It is altogether fitting a7id 
proper that we should do this. But in a 
larger sense we ca7i not dedicate, we can 
not consecrate, we can not hallow this 
groinid. The brave 7nen, living a7id dead, 
who struggled here, have consecrated it 
far above our power to add or detract. 
The world will little note, nor lo7ig re- 
member, what we say here; but it can 


never forget what they did here. It is 
for us, the living, rather to be dedicated 
here to the unfinished work which they 
who fought here have thus far so nobly 
advanced. It is rather for us to be here 
dedicated to the great task remaining 
before us, that from these honored dead 
we take increased devotion to that cause 
for which they gave the last full measure 
of devotion; that we here highly resolve 
that these dead shall not have died in 
vain; that this nation, under God, shall 
have a new birth of freedom, and that 
governmeiit of the people, by the people, 
and for the people, shall not perish from 
the earth. 

It has often been stated that Lincoln 
composed the Gettysburg address on the 
train as he was going to the ceremony. 
Mrs. Andrews in her beautiful story, 
"The Perfect Tribute," accepts this detail. 
But the testimony of Noah Brooks is 
clear as to an earlier origin. In his 
''Washington in Lincoln's Time," Brooks 


''One November day — it chanced to be 
the Sunday before the dedication of the 
National Cemetery at Gettysburg — I had 
an appointment to go with the President 
to Gardner, the photographer, on Seventh 
Street, to fulfil a long-standing engage- 
ment. Mr. Lincoln carefully explained 
that he could not go on any other day 
without interfering with the public busi- 
ness and the photographer's business, to 
say nothing of his liability to be hin- 
dered by curiosity-seekers "and other 
seeks" on the way thither. Just as we 
were going down the stairs of the White 
House, the President suddenly remem- 
bered that he wanted a paper, and after 
hurrying back to his office, soon rejoined 
me with a long envelope in his hand. 
When we were fairly started, he said that 
the envelope held an advance copy of 
Edward Everett's address to be delivered 
at the Gettysburg dedication on the fol- 
lowing Tuesday. Drawing it out, I saw 
that it was a one-page supplement to a 
Boston paper, and that Mr. Everett's ad- 
dress nearly covered both sides of the 
sheet. The President expressed his ad- 


miration for the thoughtfulness of the 
Boston orator, who had sent this copy of 
his address in order that Mr. Lincoln 
might not traverse the same lines that 
the chosen speaker of the great occasion 
might have laid out for himself. When 
I exclaimed at its length, the President 
laughed and quoted the line, 

" 'Solid men of Boston, make no long 
orations,' which he said he had met 
somewhere in a speech by Daniel Web- 
ster. He said that there was no danger 
that he should get upon the lines of Mr. 
Everett's oration, for what he had ready 
to say was very short, or, as he emphat- 
ically expressed it, 'short, short, short.' 
In reply to a question as to the speech 
having been written, he said that it 
was written, 'but not finished.' He 
had brought the paper with him, he ex- 
plained, hoping that a few minutes of 
leisure while waiting for the movements 
of the photographer and his processes 
would give him a chance to look over the 
speech. But we did not have to wait 
long between sittings, and the President, 
having taken out the envelope and laid it 


on the little table at his elbow, became 
so engaged in talk that he failed to open 
it while we were at the studio. A dis- 
aster overtook the negative of that photo- 
graph, and after a very few prints had 
been made from it no more were possible. 
In the copy which the President gave 
me, the envelope containing Mr. Everett's 
oration is seen on the table by the side 
of the sitter." 

This is too circumstantial to be 
doubted. The evident fact is this: Lin- 
coln thought out and probably made 
some note of his Gettysburg address the 
week before it was delivered. On the 
train he copied or wrote from memory 
the matter already composed, making 
some additions or changes, it may be, 
as he did so. 

This correction of a popular error is 
not so unimportant as it may appear. 
For the characteristic Lincoln method 
was to prepare in advance even so brief 
an address as the dedication. Brooks' 
testimony proves that the most famous 
of the war President's public utterances 
was carefully planned days before the 


event and not left, as so many have as- 
sumed, to the chances of a railroad 

A. H. Nickerson, who was wounded 
near the spot where Lincoln delivered his 
Gettysburg address, recovered in time to 
be present on that occasion. In an article 
printed in Scribner's magazine he pays 
tribute to the finished and impressive 
oration of Edward Everett and then 
goes on: 

"It seemed as though the subject had 
been exhausted and there was absolutely 
nothing more to be said. When, there- 
fore, Mr. Lincoln arose in obedience to 
the announcement that the President 
would now pronounce the dedication, 
every one felt sorry for him. To say 
that Mr. Lincoln arose can only be ap- 
preciated by those who have been near 
him when he got up to speak. But he 
had never before seemed to me to be as 
tall as he did on this occasion. He ap- 
peared to continue to arise, as it were, 
until when he finally stood up I thought 
he was the tallest and most awkward 
man I had ever seen." 


"I think he had a card or a strip of 
paper the size of a visiting card in his 
hand. He did not, however, look at or 
refer to it in any way. Others have dif- 
fered as to the immediate effect of his 
remarks. In this, also, I give the im- 
pressions received at the time, which 
were also identical with those of all with 
whom I spoke. I thought then and still 
think it was the shortest, grandest, speech, 
oration, sermon, or what you please to 
call it, to which I ever listened. It was 
the whole matter in a nutshell, delivered 
distinctly and impressively, so that all in 
that vast concourse could hear him. My 
own emotions may perhaps be imagined 
when it is remembered that he was fac- 
ing the spot where only a short time be- 
fore we had had our death grapple with 
Pickett's men, and he stood almost im- 
mediately over the place where I had lain 
and seen my comrades torn in frag- 
ments by the enemy's cannon-balls. 

"Think, if you please, how these words 
fell upon my ears: .... 'we are met 
on a great ba»ttlefield of that war. We 
have come to dedicate a portion of that 


field as a final resting place for those who 
here gave their lives that that nation 
might live. It is altogether fitting and 
proper that we should do this. But in a 
larger sense we cannot dedicate, we cannot 
consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. 
The brave men, living and dead, who 
struggled here, have consecrated it far 
above our power to add or detract. The 
world will little note, nor long remember, 
what we say here; but it can never forget 
what they did here.' 

"If at that moment the Supreme Being 
had appeared with an offer to undo my 
past life; give back to me a sound body, 
free from the remembrance even of suf- 
ferings past, and the imminence of those 
that must necessarily embitter all the 
years to come, I should have indignantly 
spurned the offer, such was the effect upon 
m.e of this immortal 'dedication.' " 



IT IS natural that friends should ten- 
derly and frequently talk of the loved 
and lost, descanting upon their vir- 
tues, narrating the little incidents of a life 
ended, and dwelling with minute parti- 
cularity upon traits of character which, 
under other circumstances, might have 
remained unnoted and be forgotten, but 
are invested now with a mournful inter- 
est which fixes them in the memory. This, 
and the general desire to know more of 
the man Abraham Lincoln, is the only 
excuse offered for the following simple 
sketch of some parts of the character of 
our beloved Chief Magistrate, now 
passed from earth. 

All persons agree that the most marked 
characteristic of Mr. Lincoln's manners 
was his simplicity and artlessness; this 
immediately impressed itself upon the 

Photo by Brady 

Lincoln and his son'Tad" 


observation of those who met him for 
the first time, and each successive inter- 
view deepened the impression. People 
seemed dehghted to find in the ruler of 
the nation freedom from pomposit\' and 
alfectation, mingled with a certain simple 
dignity Vv'hich ne\er forsook him. 
Though oppressed with the weight of re- 
sponsibility resting upon him as President 
of the United States, he shrank from as- 
suming any of the honors, or even the 
titles, of the position. After }-ears of 
intimate acquaintance with Mr. Lincoln 
the writer can not now recall a single 
instance in which he spoke of himself as 
President, or used that title for himself, 
except when acting in an official capacity. 
He always spoke of his- position and office 
vaguely as "this place," "here," or other 
modest phrase. Once, speaking of the 
room in the Capitol used by the Presi- 
dents of the United States during the 
close of a session of Congress, he said, 
'That room, you know, that they call" — 
dropping his voice and hesitating — "the 
President's room." To an intimate friend 


who addressed him always by his own 
proper title he said, "Now call me Lin- 
coln, and I'll promise not to tell of the 
breach of etiquette — if you won't — and I 
shall have a resting-spell from 'Mister 
President.' " 

With all his simplicity and unacquaint- 
ance with courtly manners, his native 
dignity never forsook him in the presence 
of critical or polished strangers; but 
mixed with his angularities and bonhomie 
was something which spoke the fme fibre 
of the man; and, while his sovereign dis- 
regard of courtly conventionalities was 
somewhat ludicrous, his native sweetness 
and straightforwardness of manner served 
to disarm criticism and impress the vis- 
itor that he was before a man pure, self- 
poised, collected, and strong in uncon- 
scious strength. Of him an accomplished 
foreigner, whose knowledge of the courts 
was more perfect than that of the English 
language, said, "He seems to me one 
grand gentilhomme in disguise." 

In his eagerness to acquire knowledge 
of common things he sometimes surprised 
his distmguished visitors by inquiries 


about matters that they were supposed to 
be acquainted with, and those who came 
to scrutinize went away with a vague 
sense of having been unconsciously 
pumped by the man whom they expected 
to pump. One Sunday evening last win- 
ter, while sitting alone with the President, 
the cards of Professor Agassiz and a 
friend were sent in. The President had 
never met Agassiz at that time, I believe, 
and said, "1 would like to talk with that 
man; he is a good man, I do believe, don't 
}ou think so?" But one answer could be 
returned to the query, and soon after the 
visitors were shown in, the President first 
whispering, "Now sit still and see what 
we can pick up that's new." To my sur- 
prise, however, no questions were asked 
about the Old Silurian, the Glacial 
Theory, or the Great Snow-storm, but, 
introductions being over, the President 
said: "I never knew how to properly 
pronounce your name; won't you give me 
a little lesson at that, please?" Then he 
asked if it were of French or Swiss deri- 
vation, to which the Professor replied 
that it was partly of each. That led to 


a discussion of diflferent languages, the 
President speaking of several words in 
diflferent languages which had the same 
root as similar words in our own tongue; 
then he illustrated that by one or two 
anecdotes, one of which he borrowed from 
Hood's "Up the Rhine." But he soon re- 
turned to his gentle cross-examination of 
Agassiz, and found out how the Professor 
studied, how he composed, and how he 
delivered his lectures; how he found dif- 
ferent tastes in his audience in diflfer- 
ent portions of the country. When 
afterward asked why he put such ques- 
tions to his learned visitor he said, "Why, 
what we got from him isn't printed in 
the books; the other things are." 

At this interview, it may be remarked 
in passing, the President said that many 
years ago, when the custom of lecture- 
going was more common than since, he 
was induced to try his hand at composing 
a literary lecture — something which he 
thought entirely out of his line. The 
subject, he said, was not defmed, but 
his purpose was to analyze inventions 
and discoveries — "to cct at the bottom of 


things" — and to show when, where, how, 
and why such things were inxented or 
discovered; and, so far as possible, to find 
where the first mention is made of some 
of our common things. The Bible, he 
said, he found to be the richest store- 
house for such knowledge; and he then 
gave one or two illustrations, which were 
new to his hearers. The lecture was 
never finished, and was left among his 
loose' papers at Springfield when he came 
to W ashington. 

The simplicity of manner which shone 
out in all such interviews as that here 
noticed was marked in his total lack of 
consideration of what was due his exalted 
station. He had an almost morbid dread 
of what he called "a scene" — that is, a 
demonstration of applause such as alwa\'s 
greeted his appearance in public. The 
first sign of a cheer sobered him; he ap- 
peared sad and oppressed, suspended con- 
versation, and looked out into vacancy; 
and when it was over resumed the con- 
versation just where it was interrupted, 
with an obvious feeling of relief. Of the 
relations of a senator to him he said, "I 


think that Senator 's manner is more 

cordial to me than before." The truth 
was that the senator had been looking 
for a sign of cordiahty from his superior, 
but the President had reversed their rela- 
tive positions. At another time, speaking 
of an early acquaintance, who was an 
applicant for an office which he thought 
him hardly qualified to fill, the President 

said, "Well, now, I never thought M 

had any more than average ability when 
we were young men together; really I did 
not" — a pause. — "But, then I suppose he 
thought just the same about me; he had 
reason to, and — here I am!" 

The simple habits of Mr. Lincoln were 
so well known that it is a subject for 
surprise that watchful and malignant 
treason did not sooner take that precious 
hfe which he seemed to hold so lightly. 
He had an almost morbid dislike for an 
escort, or guard, and daily exposed him- 
self to the deadly aim of an assassin. 
One summer morning, passing by the 
White House at an early hour, I saw the 
President standing at the gateway, look= 
ing" anxiously down the street; and, in 


reply to a salutation, he said, "Good- 
morning, good-morning! I am looking 
for a news-boy; when you get to that 
corner I wish you would start one up this 
way." There are American citizens who 
consider such things beneath the dignity 
of an official in high place. 

In reply to the remonstrances of 
friends, who were afraid of his constant 
exposure to danger, he had but one an- 
swer: "If they kill me, the next man will 
be just as bad for them; and in a country 
like this, where our habits are simple, and 
must be, assassination is always possible, 
and will come if they are determined 
upon it." A cavalry guard was once 
placed at the gates of the White House 
for a while, and he said, privately, that 
he "worried until he got rid of it." While 
the President's family were at their sum- 
mer-house, near Washington, he rode into 
town of a morning, or out at night, at- 
tended by a mounted escort; but if he 
returned to town for a while after dark, 
he rode in unguarded, and often alone, in 
his open carriage. On more than one oc- 
casion the writer has gone through the 


Streets of Washington at a late hour of 
the night with the President, without 
escort, or even the company of a servant, 
walking all of the way, going and re- 

Considering the many open and secret 
threats to take his life, it is not surprising 
that Mr. Lincoln had many thoughts 
about his coming to a- sudden and violent 
end. He once said that he felt the force 
of the expression, "To take one's life in 
his hand;" but that he would not like to 
face death suddenly. He said that he 
thought himself a great coward physi- 
cally, and was sure that he should make 
a poor soldier, for, unless there was some- 
thing in the excitement of a battle, he was 
sure that he would drop his gun and run 
at the first symptom of danger. That 
was said sportively, and he added, 
"Moral cowardice is something which I 
think I never had." Shortly after the 
presidential election, in 1864, he related 
an incident which I will try to put upon 
paper here, as nearly as possible in his 
own words: 

"It was just after my election in 1860, 


when the news had been coming in thick 
and fast all day, and there had been a 
great 'Hurrah, boys!' so that I was well 
tired out, and went home to rest, throw- 
ing myself down on a lounge in my cham- 
ber. Opposite where I lay was a bureau, 
with a swinging-glass upon it" — (and 
here he got up and placed furniture to 
illustrate the position) — "and, looking in 
that glass, I saw myself reflected, nearly 
at full length; but my face, 1 noticed, had 
tijo separate and distinct images, the tip 
of the nose of one being about three 
inches from the tip of the other. I was a 
little bothered, perhaps startled, and got 
up and looked in the glass, but the illu- 
sion vanished. On lying down again I saw 
it a second time — plainer, if possible than 
before; and then I noticed that one of the 
faces was a little paler, say five shades, 
than the other. I got up and the thing 
melted away, and I went oflf and, in the 
excitement of the hour, forgot all about 
it — nearly, but not quite, for the thing 
would once in a while come up, and give 
me a little pang, as though something un- 
comfortable had happened. When I went 


home I told my wife about it, and a few 
days after I tried the experiment again, 
when [with a laugh], sure enough, the 
thing came again; but 1 never succeeded 
in bringing the ghost back after that, 
though I once tried very industriously to 
show it to my wife, who was worried 
about it somewhat. She thought it was 
'a sign' that I was to be elected to a 
second term of office, and that the pale- 
ness of one of the faces was an omen that 
I should not see life through the last 

The President, with his usual good 
sense, saw nothing in all this but an opti- 
cal illusion; though the flavor of super- 
stition which hangs about every man's 
composition made him wish that he had 
never seen it. But there are people who 
will now believe that this odd coincidence 
was "a warning." 

If Mr. Lincoln's critics may be trusted, 
he had too much goodness of heart to 
make a good magistrate. Certain it is 
that his continually-widening charity for 
all, and softness of heart, pardoned of- 
fenders and mitigated punishments when 


the strict requirements of justice would 
have dealt more severely with the crim- 
inal. It was a standing order of his of- 
fice that persons on matters involving the 
issue of life and death should have im- 
mediate precedence. Nor was his kind- 
ness confined to affairs of state; his serv- 
ants, and all persons in his personal serv- 
ice, were the objects of his peculiar care 
and solicitude. They bore no burdens or 
hardships which he could relieve them 
of; and if he carried this virtue to an ex- 
treme, and carried labors which others 
should have borne, it was because he 
thought he could not help it. 

He was often waylaid by soldiers im- 
portunate to get their back-pay, or a 
furlough, or a discharge; and if the case 
was not too complicated, would attend to 
it then and there. Going out of the main- 
door of the White House one morning, 
he met an old lady who was pulling vig- 
orously at the door-bell, and asked her 
what she wanted. She said that she 
wanted to see "Abraham the Second." 
The President, amused, asked who Abra- 
ham the First might be, if there was a 


second? The old lady replied, "\\'h\ 
Lor' bless you! we read about the first 
Abraham in the Bible, and Abraham tht 
Second is our President." She was told 
that the President was not in his office 
then, and when she a.ked where he was, 
she was told, "Here he is;" Nearly petri 
fied with surprise, the old lady manage^ 
to tell her errand, and was told to come 
next morning at nine o'clock, when she 
was received and kindly cared for by the 
President. At another time, hearing of a 
young man who had determined to enter 
the navy as a landsman, after three years 
of service in the army, he said to the 
writer, "Now do you go over to the Navy 
Department and mouse out what he is fit 
for, and he shall have it, if it's to be had, 
for that's the kind of men I like to hear 
of." The place was duly "moused out," 
with the assistance of the kind-hearted 
Assistant-Secretary of the Navy; and the 
young oflker, who may read these lines 
on his solitary post off the mouth of the 
Yazoo River, was appointed upon the 
recommendation of the President of the 
United States. Of an application for of- 


ice by an old friend, not fit for the place 
le sought, he said, "1 had rather resign 
ny place and go away from here than 
efuse him, if I considered only my per- 
gonal feelings; but refuse him I must." 
\nd he did. 

This same gentleness, mixed with firm- 
ness, characterized all of Mr. Lincoln's 
lealings with public men. Often bitterly 
issailed and abused, he never appeared to 
ecognize the fact that he had political 
memies; and if his attention was called 
o unkind speeches or remarks, he would 
urn the conversation of his indignant 
Tiends by a judicious story, or the re- 
nark, "I guess we won't talk about that 
low." He has himself put it on record 
hat he never read attacks upon himself, 
ind if they were brought persistently be- 
ore him he had some ready excuse for 
heir authors. Of a virulent personal at- 
ack upon his official conduct he mildly 
.aid that it was ill-timed; and of one , of 
lis most bitter political enemies he said: 
'I've been told that insanity is hereditary 
n his family, and I think we will admit 
he olea in his case." It was noticeable 


that Mr. Lincoln's keenest critics and bit- 
ter opponents studiously avoided his 
presence; it seemed as though no man 
could be familiar with his homely, heart- 
lighted features, his single-hearted direct- 
ness and manly kindliness, and remain 
long an enemy, or be any thing but his 
friend. It was this warm frankness of 
Mr. Lincoln's manner that made a hard- 
headed old "hunker" once leave the hust- 
ings where Lincoln was speaking, in 1856, 
saying, "I won't hear him, for I don't like 
a man that makes me believe in him in 
spite of myself." 

"Honest Old Abe" has passed into the 
language of our time and country as a 
synonym for all that is just and honest 
in man. Yet thousands of instances, un- 
known to the world, .might be added to 
those already told of Mr. Lincoln's great 
and crowning virtue. He disliked innu- 
endoes, concealments, and subterfuges; 
and no sort of approach at official "job- 
bing" ever had any encouragement from 
him. With him the question was not, 
"Is it convenient? Is it expedient?" but, 
"Is it right?" He steadily discounten- 


anced all practices of gov-ernment offi- 
cers using any part of the public funds 
for temporary purposes; and he loved to 
tell of his own experience when he was 
saved from embarrassment by his rigid 
adherence to a good rule. He had been 
postmaster at Salem, Illinois, during 
Jackson's administration, William T. 
Barry being then Postmaster-General, 
and resigning his office, removed to 
Springfield, having sent a statement of 
account to the Department at Washing- 
ton. No notice was taken of his account, 
which showed a balance due the Gov- 
ernment of over one hundred and fifty 
dollars, until three or four years after, 
when, Amos Kendall being Postmaster- 
General, he was presented with a draft 
for the amount due. Some of Mr. Lin- 
coln's friends, who knew that he was in 
straightened circumstances then, as he 
had always been, heard of the draft and 
offered to help him out with a loan; but 
he told them not to worry, and producing 
from his trunk an old pocket, tied up and 
marked, counted out, in six-pences. shill- 
ings, and quarters, the exact sum required 


of him, in the identical coin received by 
him while in office years before. 

The honesty of Mr. Lincoln appeared 
to spring from religious convictions; and 
it was his habit, when conversing of 
things which most intimately concerned 
himself, to say that, however he might be 
misapprehended by men who did not ap- 
pear to know him, he was glad to know 
that no thought or intent of his escaped 
the observation of that Judge by whose 
final decree he expected to stand or fall in 
this world and the next. It seemed as 
though this was his surest refuge at times 
when he was most misunderstood or mis- 
represented. There was something touch- 
ing in his childlike and simple reliance 
upon Divine aid, especially when in such 
extremities as he sometimes fell into; 
then, though prayer and reading of the 
Scriptures was his constant habit, he more 
earnestly than ever sought that strength 
which is promised when mortal help fail- 
eth. His address upon the occasion of his 
re-inauguration has been said to be as 
truly a religious document as a state- 
paper; and his acknowledgment of God 


and His providence and rule are inter- 
woven through all of his later speeches, 
letters, and messages. Once he said: "I 
have been driven many times upon my 
knees by the overwhelming conviction 
that I had nowhere else to go. My own 
wisdom and that of all about me seemed 
insufficient for that day." 

Just after the last presidential election 
he said: "Being only mortal, after all, I 
should have been a little mortified if I 
had been beaten in this canvass before the 
people; but that sting would have been 
more than compensated by the thought 
that the people had notified me that all 
my official responsibilities were soon to 
be Hfted off my back." In reply to the 
remark that he might remember that in 
all these cares he was daily remembered 
by those who prayed, not to be heard of 
men, as no man had ever before been re- 
membered, he caught at the homely 
phrase and said: "Yes, I like that phrase, 
'not to be heard of men/ and guess it's 
generally true, as you say; at least I have 
been told so, and 1 have been a good deal 
helped by just that thought." Then he 


solemnly and slowly added: "I should 
be the most presumptuous blockhead 
upon this footstool if 1 for one day 
thought that I could discharge the duties 
which have come upon me since I came 
into this place without the aid and en- 
lightenment of One who is wiser and 
stronger than all others." 

At another time he said, cheerfully, "I 
am very sure that if 1 do not go away 
from here a wiser man, 1 shall go away a 
better man, for having learned here what 
a very poor sort of a man I am." After- 
ward, referring to what he called a 
change of heart, he said that he did not 
rem.ember any precise time when he 
passed through any special change of 
purpose or of heart; but he would say 
that his own election to office, and the 
crisis immediately following, influentially. 
determined him in what he called "a 
process of crystallization," then going on 
in his mind. Reticent as he was, and shy 
of discoursing much of his own mental 
exercises, these few utterances now have a 
value with those who knew him which 
his dying words would scarcely have 


No man but Mr. Lincoln ever knew 
how great was the load of care which 
he bore, nor the amount of mental labor 
which he daily accomplished. With the 
usual perplexities of the office — greatly 
increased by the unusual multiplication 
of places in his gift — he carried the bur- 
dens of the civil war, which he always 
called "This great trouble." Though the 
intellectual man had greatly grown mean- 
time, few persons would recognize the 
hearty, blithesome, genial, and wiry Ab- 
raham Lincoln of earlier days in the six- 
teenth President of the United States, 
with his stooping figure, dull eyes, care- 
worn face, and languid frame. The old, 
clear laugh never came back; the even 
temper was sometimes disturbed; and his 
natural charity for all was often turned 
into an unwonted suspicion of the motives 
of men, whose selfishness cost him so 
much wear of mind. Once he said, "Sit- 
ting here, where all the avenues to public 
patronage seem to come together in a 
knot, it does seem to me that our people 
are fast approaching the point where it 
can be said that seven-eighths of them 


were trying to find how to live at the 
expense of the other eighth." 

It was this incessant demand upon his 
time, by men who sought place or en- 
deavored to shape his policy, that broke 
down his courage and his temper, as well 
as exhausted his strength. Speaking of 
the "great flood-gates" which his doors 
daily opened upon him, he said, "1 sup- 
pose 1 ought not to blame the aggregate, 
for each abstract man or woman thinks 
his or her case a peculiar one, and must 
be attended to, though all others be left 
out; but 1 can see this thing growing 
every day." And at another time, speak- 
ing of the exhaustive demands upon him, 
which left him in no condition for more 
important duties, he said, "1 sometimes 
fancy that every one of the numerous 
grist ground through here daily, from a 
Senator seeking a war with France down 
to a poor woman after a place in the 
Treasury Department, darted at me with 
thumb and fmger, picked out their especial 
piece of my vitality, and carried it off. 
When 1 get through with such a day's 
work there is only one word which can 


express my condition, and that is — 
flabbiness." There are some pubHc men 
who can now remember, with self-re- 
proaches, having increased with long 
evening debates that reducing "fiabbiness" 
of the m.uch-enduring President. 

Mr. Lincoln visited the Army of the 
Potomac in the spring of 1863, and, free 
from the annoyances of office, was con- 
siderably refreshed and rested; but even 
there the mental anxieties which never 
forsook him seemed to cast him down, at 
times, with a great weight. We left 
Washington late in the afternoon, and a 
snow-storm soon after coming on, the 
steamer was anchored for the night 
oft Indian Head, on the iMaryland shore 
of the Potomac. The President left the 
little knot in the cabin, and sitting alone 
in a corner, seemed absorbed in the sad- 
dest reflections for a time; then, beckon- 
ing a companion to him, said, "What will 
you wager that half our iron-clads are at 
the bottom of Charleston Harbor?" This 
being the first intimation which the other 
had had of Dupont's attack, which was 
then begun, hesitated to reply, when the 


President added, "The people will expect 
big things when they hear of this; but it 
is too late — too late!" 

During that little voyage the captain 
of the steamer, a frank, modest old sailor, 
was so much affected by the care-worn ap- 
pearance of the President, that he came 
to the writer and confessed that he had 
received the same impression of the Chief 
Magistrate that many had; hearing of his 
"little stories" and his humor, he had 
supposed him to have no care or sadness; 
but a sight of that anxious and sad face 
had undeceived him, and he wanted to 
tell the President how much he had un- 
intentionally wronged him, feeling that 
he had committed upon him a personal 
wrong. The captain was duly introduced 
to the President, who talked with him 
privately for a space, being touched as 
well as amused at what he called "Cap- 
tain M 's freeing his mind/' 

The following week, spent in riding 
about and seeing the army, appeared to 
revive Mr. Lincoln's spirits and to rest 
his body. A friend present observed as 
much to him, and he replied, "Well, yes. 


I do feel some better, I think; but, some- 
how, it don't appear to touch the tired 
spot, which can't be got at." And that, 
by-the-way, reminded him of a Httle 
story of his having once used that word, 
spot, a great many times in the course of 
a speech in Congress, years ago, so that 
some of his fellow-members called him 
"spot Lincoln," but he believed that the 
nickname did not stick. Another remi- 
niscence of his early life, which he recalled 
during the trip, was one concerning his 
experience in rail-splitting. We were 
driving through an open clearing, where 
the \'irginia forest had been felled by the 
soldiers, when Mr. Lincoln observed, 
looking at the stumps, "That's a good job 
of felling; 'they "have got some good axe- 
men in this army, I see." The conversa- 
tion turing upon his knowledge of rail- 
splitting, he said, "Now let me tell you 
about that. I am not a bit anxious about 
my reputation in that line of business; 
but if there is any thing in this world that 
I am a judge of, it is of good felling of 
timber, but I don't remember having 
worked by myself at splitting rails for 


one whole day in my life." Upon sur- 
prise being expressed that his national 
reputation as a rail-splitter should have 
so slight a foundation, he said, "1 recol- 
lect that, some time during the canvass 
for the office I now hold, there was a 
great mass meeting, where I was present, 
and with a great flourish several rails 
were brought into the meeting, and being 
informed where they came from, I was 
asked to identify them, which 1 did, with 
some qualms of conscience, having helped 
my father to split rails, as at other odd 
jobs. I said if there were any rails which 
I had split, I shouldn't wonder if those 
were the rails." Those who ma}' be dis- 
appointed to learn of Mr. Lincoln's lim- 
ited experience in splitting rails, may be 
relieved to know that he was evidently 
proud of his knowledge of the art of 
cutting timber, and explained minutely 
how a good job ditfered from a poor one, 
gi\ ing illustrations from the ugly stumps 
on either side. 

An amusing yet touching instance of 
the President's preoccupation of mind oc- 
curred at one of his levees, when he was 


shaking hands with a host of visitors, 
passing him in a continuous stream. An 
intimate acquaintance received the usual 
conventional hand-shake and salutation; 
but, perceiving that he was not recog- 
nized, kept his ground, instead of mov- 
ing on, and spoke again; when the Presi- 
dent, roused by a dim consciousness that 
something unusual had happened, per- 
ceived who stood before him, and seizing 
his friend's hand, shook it again heartily, 
saying, "How do you do? How do you 
do? Excuse me for not noticing you at 
first; the fact is, I was thinking of a man 
down South/' He afterward privately 
acknowledged that the "man down 
South" was Sherman, then on his march 
to the sea. 

Mr. Lincoln had not a hopeful tem- 
perament, and, though he looked at the 
bright side of things, was always pre- 
pared for disaster and defeat. With his 
wonderful faculty for discerning results 
he often saw success where others saw 
disaster, but oftener perceived a failure 
when others were elated with victory, or 
were temporarily deceived by appear- 


ances. Of a great cavalry raid, which 
filled the newspapers with glowing exul- 
tation, but failed to cut the communica- 
tions which it had been designed to de- 
stroy, he briefly said: "That was good 
circus-riding; it will do to fill a column 
in the newspapers; but I don't see that' 
it has brought any thing else to pass." 
He often said that the worst feature about 
newspapers- was that they were so sure to 
be "ahead of the hounds," outrunning 
events, and exciting expectations which 
were sure to be disappointed. One of the 
worst effects of a victory, he said, was to 
lead people to expect that the war was 
about over in consequence of it; but he 
was never weary of commending the pa- 
tience of the American people, which he 
thought something matchless and touch- 
ing. I have seen him shed tears when 
speaking of the cheerful sacrifice of the 
light and strength of so many happy 
homes throughout the land. His own pa- 
tience was marvelous; and never crushed 
at defeat or unduly excited by success, his 
demeanor under both was an example for 
all men. Once he said the keenest blow of 


all the war was at an early stage, when 
the disaster of Ball's Bluflf and the death 
of his beloved Baker smote upon him like 
a whirlwind from a desert. 

It is generally agreed that Mr. Lin- 
coln's slowness was a prominent trait of 
his character; but it is too early, perhaps, 
to say how much of our safety and suc- 
cess we owe to his slowness. It may be 
said, however, that he is to-day admired 
and beloved as much for what he did not 
do as for what he did. He was well 
aware of the popular opinion concerning 
his slowness, but was only sorry that such 
a quality of mind should sometimes be 
coupled with weakness and vacillation. 
Such an accusation he thought to be un- 
just. Acknowledging that he was slow 
in arriving at conclusions, he said that 
he could not help that; but he believed 
that when he did arrive at conclusions 
they were clear and "stuck by." He was 
a profound believer in his own fixity of 
purpose, and took pride in saying that 
his long deliberations made it possible 
for him to stand by his own acts when 
they were once resolved upon. It would 


have been a relief to the country at one 
time in our history if this trait of the 
President's character had been better un- 
derstood. 1 here was no time, probably, 
during the last administration, when any 
of the so-called radical measures were in 
any danger of being qualified or recalled. 
The simple explanation of the doubt 
which often hung over his purposes may 
be found in the fact that it was a habit 
of his mind to put forward all of the 
objections of other people and of his own 
to any given proposition, to see what 
arguments or counter-statements could be 
brought against them. While his own 
mind might be perfectly clear upon the 
subject, it gave him real pleasure to state 
objections for others to combat or at- 
tempt to set aside. 

His practice of being controlled by 
events is well known. He often said that 
it was wise to wait for the developments 
of Providence; and the Scriptural phrase 
that "the stars in their courses fought 
against Sisera" to him had a depth of 
meaning. Then, too, he liked to feel that 
he was the attorney of the people, not 


their ruler; and I believe that this idea 
was generally uppermost in his mind. 
Speaking of the probability of his second 
nomination, about two years ago, he said : 
"If the people think that I have managed 
their case for them well enough to trust 
me to carry up to the next term, I am 
sure that I shall be glad to take it." 

He liked to provide for his friends, who 
were often remembered gratefully for 
services given him in his early struggles 
in life. Sometimes he would "break the 
slate," as he called it, of those who were 
making up a list of appointments, that 
he might insert the name of some old ac- 
quaintance who had befriended him in 
days when friends were few. He was not 
deceived by outside appearances, but too'k 
the measure of those he met, and few men 
were worth any more or any less than 
the value which Abraham Lincoln set 
upon them. 

Upon being told that a gentleman upon 
whom he was about to confer a valuable 
appointment had been bitterly opposed to 
his renomination, he said: "I suppose 
that Judge , having been disap- 


pointed before, did behave pretty ugly; 
but that wouldn't make him any less fit 
for this place, and I have a Scriptural 
authority for appointing him. You recol- 
lect that while the Lord on Mount Sinai 
was getting out a commission for Aaron, 
that same Aaron was at the foot of the 
mountain making a false god, a golden 
calf, for the people to worship; yet 
Aaron got his commission, you know?" 
At another time, when remonstrated with 
upon the appointment to place of one of 
his former opponents, he said: "Nobody 
will deny that he is a first-rate man for 
the place, and I am bound to see that his 
opposition to me personally shall not in- 
terfere with my giving the people a good 

The world will never hear the last of 
the "Httle stories" with which the Presi- 
dent garnished or illustrated his conver- 
sation and his early stump speeches. He 
said, however, that as near as he could 
reckon, about one-sixth of those which 
were credited to him were old acquaint- 
ances; all of the rest were the produc- 
tions of other and better story-tellers 


than himself. Said he: "1 do generally 
remember a good story when I hear it, 
but 1 never did invent any thing orig- 
inal; I am only a retail dealer." His 
anecdotes were seldom told for the sake 
of the telling, but because they fitted in 
just where they came, and shed a light 
on the argument that nothing else could. 
He was not witty, but brimful of humor; 
and though he was quick to appreciate 
a good pun, 1 never knew of his making 
but one, which was on the Christian 
name of a friend, to whom he said : "You 
have yet to be elected to the place I hold; 
but Noah's reign was before Abraham." 
He thought that the chief characteristic of 
American humor was its grotesqueness 
and extravagance; and the story of the 
man who was so tall that he was ''laid 
out" in a rope-walk, the soprano voice 
so high that it had to be climbed over 
by a ladder, and the Dutchman's expres- 
sion of ''somebody tying his dog loose," 
all made a permanent lodgment in his 

His accuracy and memory were won- 
derful, and one illustration of the former 


quality may be given in the remarkable 
correspondence between the figures of the 
result of the last presidential election and 
the actual sum total. The President's fig- 
ures, collected hastily, and partially based 
upon his own estimates, made up only 
four weeks after the election, have been 
found to be only one hundred and twenty- 
nine less in their grand total than that 
made up by Mr. McPherson, the Clerk 
of the House of Representatives, who has 
compiled a table from the returns fur- 
nished him from the official records of all 
the State capitals in the loyal States. 

Latterly Mr. Lincoln's reading was 
with the humorous writers. He liked to 
repeat from memory whole chapters from 
these books, and on such occasions he al- 
ways preserved his own gravity though 
his auditors might be convulsed with 
laughter. He said that he had a dread 
of people who could not appreciate the 
fun of such things; and he once instanced 
a member of his own Cabinet, of whom 
he quoted the saying of Sydney Smith, 
"that it required a surgical operation to 
get a joke into his head." The light 


trifles spoken of diverted his mind, or, 
as he said of his theatre-going, gave him 
refuge from himself and his weariness. 
But he also was a lover of many philoso- 
phical books, and particularly liked But- 
ler's Analogy of Religion, Stuart Mill on 
Liberty, and he always hoped to get at 
President Edwards on the Will. These 
ponderous writers found a queer compan- 
ionship in the chronicler of the Mackerel 
Brigade, Parson Nasby, and Private 
Miles O'Reilly. The Bible was a very 
familiar study with the President, whole 
chapters of Isaiah, the New Testament, 
and the Psalms being fixed in his memory, 
and he would sometimes correct a mis- 
quotation of Scripture, giving generally 
the chapter and verse where it could be 
found. He liked the Old Testament best, 
and dwelt on the simple beauty of the 
historical books. Once, speaking of his 
own age and strength, he quoted with ad- 
miration that passage, "'His eye was not 
dim, nor his natural force abated." I do 
not know that he thought then how, like 
that Moses of old, he was to stand on 
Pisgah and see a peaceful land which he 
was not to enter. 


Of the poets the President appeared to 
prefer Hood and Holmes, the mixture of 
fun and pathos in their writings being at- 
tractive to him beyond any thing else 
which he read. Of the former author he 
liked best the past part of "Miss Kilman- 
segg and her Golden Leg," "Faithless 
Sally Brown," and one or two others not 
generally so popular as those which are 
called Hood's best poems. Holmes's 
"September Gale," "Last Leaf," "Cham- 
bered Nautilus," and "Ballad of an Oys- 
terman" were among his very few fa- 
vorite poems. Longfellow's "Psalm of 
Life" and "Birds of Killingworth" were 
the only productions of that author he 
ever mentioned with praise, the latter of 
which he picked up somewhere in a news- 
paper, cut out, and carried in his vest 
pocket until it was committed to memory. 
James Russell Lowell he only knew as 
"Hosea Biglow," every one of whose ef- 
fusions he knew. He sometimes repeated, 
word for word, the whole of "John P. 
Robinson, he," giving the unceasing re- 
frain with great unction and enjoyment. 
He once said that originality and daring 


impudence were sublimed in this stanza 
of Lowell's: 

"Ef you take a sword and dror it, 
An' stick a feller creetur thru, 
Gov'ment hain't to answer for it, 
God'll send the bill to you." 

Mr. Lincoln's love of music was some- 
thing passionate, but his tastes were 
simple and uncultivated, his choice being 
old airs, songs, and ballads, among which 
the plaintive Scotch songs were best liked. 
"Annie Laurie," "Mary of Argyle," and 
especially "Auld Robin Gray," never 
lost their charm for him; and all songs 
which had for their theme the rapid 
flight of time, decay, the recollections of 
early days, were sure to make a deep 
impression. The song which he liked 
best, above all others, was one called 
"Twenty Years Ago" — a simple air, the 
words to w^hich are supposed to be ut- 
tered by a man who revisits the play- 
ground of his youth. He greatly desired 
to fmd music for his favorite poem, "Oh, 
why should the spirit of mortal be 


proud?" and said once, when told that 
the newspapers had credited him with 
the authorship of the piece, "I should 
not care much for the reputation of hav- 
ing written that, but would be glad if I 
could compose music as fit to convey the 
sentiment as the words now do/' 

He wTOte slowly, and with the greatest 
deliberation, and liked to take his time; 
yet some of his dispatches, written with- 
out any corrections, are models of com- 
pactness and finish. His private corre- 
spondence was extensive and he pre- 
ferred writing his letters with his own 
hand, making copies himself frequently, 
and filing every thing away in a set of 
pigeon-holes in his oflice. When asked 
why he did not have a letter-book and 
copying-press, he said, "A letter-book 
might be easily carried off, but that stock 
of filed letters would be a back-load." He 
conscientiously attended to his enormous 
correspondence, and read every thing that 
appeared to demand his own attention. 
He said that he read with great regularity 
the letters of an old friend who lived on 
the Pacific coast until he received a letter 


of seventy pages of letter paper, when he 
broke down, and never read another. 

People were sometimes disappointed 
because he appeared before them with a 
written speech. The best explanation of 
that habit of his was his remark to a 
friend who noticed a roll of manuscript 
in the hand of the President as he came 
into the parlor while waiting for the ser- 
enade which was given him on the night 
following his re-election. Said he: "I 
know what you are thinking about; but 
there's no clap-trap about me, and I am 
free to say that in the excitement of the 
moment I am sure to say something which 
I am sorry for when I see it in print; so 
I have it here in black and white, and 
there are no mistakes made. People at- 
tach too much importance to what 1 say 
any how." Upon another occasion, hear- 
ing that I was in the parlor, he sent for 
me to come up into the library, where I 
found him writing on a piece of common 
stiff box-board with a pencil. Said he, 
after he had finished, "Here is one speech 
of mine which has never been printed, 
and I think it worth printing. Just see 


what you think." He then read the fol- 
lowing, which is copied verbatim from 
the familiar handwriting before me: 

"On Thursday of last week two ladies 
from Tennessee came before the Presi- 
dent, asking the release of their husbands, 
held as prisoners of war at Johnson's 
Island. They were put oflf until Friday, 
when they came again, and were again 
put off until Saturday. At each of the 
interviews one of the ladies urged that her 
husband was a religious man. On Satur- 
day, when the President ordered the re- 
lease of the prisoners, he said to this 
lady: 'You say your husband is a relig- 
ious man; tell him when you meet him 
that 1 say 1 am not much of a judge of 
religion, but that, in my opinion, the re- 
ligion that sets men to rebel and fight 
against their Government because, as they 
think, that Government does not suffi- 
ciently help some men to eat their bread 
in the sweat of other men's faces, is not 
the sort of religion upon which people 
can get to heaven.' " 

To this the President signed his name 
at my request, by way of joke, and added 


for a caption, "The President's Last, 
Shortest, and Best Speech," under which 
title it was duly published in one of the 
Washington newspapers. His Message to 
the last session of Congress was first writ- 
ten upon the same sort of white paste- 
board above referred to, its stiffness en- 
abling him to lay it on his knee as he 
sat easily in his arm-chair, writing and 
erasing as he thought and wrought out 
his idea. 

The already extended limits of this 
article will not permit any thing more 
than a mention of many of the traits of 
Mr. Lincoln's peculiar character, many 
of which are already widely known by 
his published writings and speeches, and 
by the numerous anecdotes which have 
been narrated by others who have been 
ready to meet the general desire to know 
more of the man whose life was so dear 
to the people. His thoughtfulness for 
those who bore the brunt of the battles, 
his harmonious family relation, his ab- 
sorbing love for his children, his anxiety 
for the well-being and conduct of the 
emancipated colored people, his unwav- 


ering faith in the hastening doom of hu- 
man slavery, his affectionate regard for 
"the simple people/' his patience, his en- 
durance, his mental sufferings, and what 
he did for the Nation and for Humanity 
and Liberty — these all must be left to the 
systematic and enduring labors of the 
historian. Though he is dead, his immor- 
tal virtues are the rich possession of the 
nation; his fame shall grow with our 
young Republic; and as years roll on 
brighter lustre will adorn the name of 
Abraham Lincoln. 


"to whom it may concern :" 

The three selections that follow are 
taken from a rare volume made up of 
nineteen 'Campaign Documents" bound 
together. Some of them were evidently 
arguments prepared at the opposition 
headquarters, 'To Whom It May Con- 
cern" is of this kind, written as an an- 
swer to a letter of the President's in which 
Lincoln had made it plain that slavery 
could not be restored. 

The other selections are from reports of 
campaign speeches. Oakey Hall's violent 
harangue 'is quoted as a curiosity in po- 
litical annals. The mass of voters did not 
sympathize with such views, as Lincoln's 
overwhelming victory proved. 

Aside from the merely partisan abuse, 
the opposition aimed its attacks chiefly at 
Emancipation. It should be remembered 


that a few years earlier Lincoln had been 
as savagely assailed by the extreme anti- 
slavery group for waiting so long as he 

The Abolitionists had not given consid- 
eration enough to those border States 
which remained loyal to the Union but 
refused to let their slaves go. By keeping 
these few States in line Lincoln held the 
balance of power long enough to save the 

There was no real "usurpation" in the 
act that freed the bondmen. It was jus- 
tified by military necessity. Later, the 
Confederate Secretary of State suggested 
that negroes be freed to strengthen the 
Southern army. He recognized the same 
principle. In any case, slavery could not 
have survived the disorganization of war. 
The firing on Fort Sumter was a prelim- 
inary emancipation proclamation. 

Lincoln simply chose the right moment 
for beginning the nation's adjustment to 
a fact that had to be faced sooner or 
later. He was moved neither by the 
urgency of the radicals nor the protests 
of the conservatives. Read his own let- 


ters and addresses for the best statement 
of the whole case. He saw all sides and 
his one purpose was to be just to all. 
Col. A. K. McClure declares that years 
after the war Jefferson Davis told him, in 
effect, that next to the fall of the Con- 
federacy the death of Lincoln was the 
South's greatest misfortune. 

It is impossible to overrate the impor- 
tance of President Lincoln's letter to the 
Niagara commissioners. It is a public 
announcement by the Chief Magistrate 
of the nation that he has abandoned, 
finally, all pretence or appearance of 
waging a constitutional war for the resto- 
ration of the territorial integrity of the 
Union, and the supremacy of its funda- 
mental laws; and an open declaration 
that hereafter it shall be waged for the 
destruction of slavery. His policy has 
long tended in this direction, but he has 
concealed its real purport by double- 
faced acts and specious language. He 
has looked one way and rowed another. 
Now he avows his purpose. Now he de- 
clares his long-concealed policy. He -has 
been assiduously prostituting the war for 

Mr. South to Mr. North : "Your 'ninety days' 
promissory note isn't taken up yet, sirree ! " 

— From Punch , September, 27, 1862 


the Union into a war for the abolition of 
slavery. Now he avows this prostitution 
and glories in it. 

Mr. Lincoln did not write his "To 
whom it may concern" letter without a 
purpose. He is a buffoon, but he is no 
fool. His purpose was a personal one. 
It was to recover the radical vote and 
support in time for the next November 
election. The radicals have distrusted 
him. The most honest and sincere anti- 
slavery men among them have long had 
no confidence in Mr. Lincoln's moral in- 
tegrity, and therefore no confidence in his 
avowals of anti-slavery sentiments. They 
have therefore deserted the Republican 
party, nominated a candidate, and laid 
down a platform of their own. They 
threatened to divide the Republican vote, 
and so insure the success of the Demo- 
cratic candidate. Mr. Lincoln hoped to 
recover their confidence and their sup- 
port in the coming election by an avowal 
which would satisfy the most exacting. 

Mr. Lincoln, therefore, seized the very 
first occasion, a fitting one for his pur- 
pose, the first overtures of peace by men 



high in the confidence or employ of the 
Confederate government, and declared 
that "the abandonment of slavery" must 
be the condition sine qua non of any 
peace propositions from the political and 
military chiefs of the rebellion. He re- 
pudiates every public declaration which 
he has hitherto made regarding the pur- 
poses of the war and the means of its 
conclusion, openly and with an utter 
moral shamclessness. He was pledged to 
other plans and other principles by every 
official oath, private avowal, and public 
declaration which could be framed to 
constrain the conscience or determine the 
acts of a man, a partisan, or a magistrate. 
He has broken his oaths and repudiated 
these avowals with never so much as a 
regretful or explanatory or condoling al- 

The Republican Convention at Chi- 
cago, which nominated Mr. Lincoln, 
passed this resolution: — 

Resolved, That the maintenance in- 
violate of the rights of the States, and es- 
pecially the right of each State to order 


and control its own domestic institutions 
according to its own judgment exclu- 
sively, is essential to that balance of 
power on which the perfection and en- 
durance of our political fabric depend, 
and we denounce the lawless invasion by 
armed force of the soil of any State or 
territory, no matter under what pretext, 
as among the gravest of crimes. 

In his Niagara letter, Mr. Lincoln de- 
clares that the control over the domestic 
institutions of the States, confirm.ed to 
them in our Constitution and in the Con- 
federate Constitution not less explicitly^ 
shall be assumed by "an authority that 
can control the armies now at war 
against the United States," and trans- 
ferred to him who now controls the armies 
and navies of the United States, and that 
otherwise he will not listen to overtures 
of peace. 

In his inaugural, President Lincoln 
quoted from one of his own speeches, and 
reiterated this declaration: — 

"I have no purpose, directly or indi- 

Sinbad Lincoln and the old man of the sea. 
Secretary of the Navy Welles."— From ^ravik 
lxsX\e.'s Illustrated 'Newspaber. May 3, 1862 


rectly, to interfere .with the institution of 
slavery in the States where it exists. I 
beheve I have no lawful right to do so, 
and I have no inclination to do so. I 
now reiterate these sentiments, and in 
doing so I only press upon the public at- 
tention the most conclusive evidence of 
which the case is susceptible that the 
property, peace, and security of no sec- 
tion are to be in any wise endangered by 
the now incoming administration." 

xMr. Lincoln now justifies the rebels in 
disbelieving these solemn asseverations, 
b}' pro\ing that they were false. He now 
does what he then declared he had no 
lawful right to do, and, for the sake of 
re-election, confesses the inclination which 
he then disavowed. 

In his first message to Congress, at the 
extra session in the summer of 1861, Mr. 
Lincoln said: 

"Lest there be some uneasiness in the 
minds" of candid men as to what is to be 
the course of the government toward the 
Southern States after the rebellion shall 
have been suppressed, the executive 


deems it proper to say it will be his pur- 
pose then, as ever, to be guided by the 
Constitution and the laws; and that he 
probably will have no different under- 
standing of the powers and duties of the 
Federal Government relatively to the 
rights of the States and the people, under 
the Constitution, than that expressed in 
the inaugural address. He desires to pre- 
serve the government that it may be ad- 
ministered for all, as it was administered 
by the men who made it. Loyal citizens 
everywhere have the right to claim this 
of their government, and the government 
has no right to withhold or neglect it. It 
is not perceived that, in giving it, there 
is any coercion, any conquest, or any 
subjugation, in any just sense of those 

Now, avowing that the abandonment 
of slavery shall precede the acceptance 
of overtures of peace, Mr. Lincoln's mes- 
sage can be interpreted only as the con- 
fession that he is doing what "loyal citi- 
zens" have a right to protest against his 
doing, and what he violates the Consti- 


tution and the laws of the United States 
in doing. 

In August, 1862, Mr. Lincoln wrote to 
Mr. Greeley: — 

"My paramount object is to save the 
Union, and not either save or destroy 
slavery. If I could save the Union with- 
out freeing any slave, I would do it; if I 
coukl save it by freeing all the slaves, I 
would do it; and if I could save it by 
freeing some and leaving others alone, I 
would also do that. What I do about sla- 
very and the colored race, I do because I 
believe it helps to save the Union; and 
what I forbear, I forbear because I do 
not believe it would help to save the 
Union. I shall do less whenever I shall 
believe that what I am doing hurts the 
cause; and I shall do more whenever I 
believe doing more will help the cause.'' 

Mr. Lincoln's last letter to Mr. Greeley 
declares two objects of the war, without 
which it shall not cease, "the integrity of 
the whole Union, and the abandonment 
of slavery." He does not base the latter 



Long Abraham Lincoln a little longer."— From 
Harper's Weekly, November 26, 1864. 


upon the former, as effect upon cause. 
Each is the coequal and co-ordinate of 
the other. His paramount object is not 
now to "save the Union, and either to 
save or destroy slaxery." He avows 
openly that slavery must be destroyed as 
well as the Union saved. The salvation 
of the Union is not even professed to be 
the exclusive and paramount object. 

In his preliminar\' "Proclamation of 
Freedom," issued September, 1862, Mr. 
Lincoln said: — 

"That hereafter, as heretofore, the war 
will be prosecuted for the object of prac- 
tically restoring the constitutional rela- 
tion between the United States and each 
of the States and the people thereof, in 
which States that relation is or may be 
suspended or disturbed." 

Mr. Lincoln now avows that hereafter 
the war shall be prosecuted for the ob- 
ject of practically compelling "the aban- 
donment of sla\er\'," even after the in- 
tegrity of the Union may be restored, for 
even the Chicago platform declared that 


in a "constitutional relation," freedom 
was national and slavery sectional, and 
even Mr. Lincoln will not pretend that 
to compel "the abandonment of slavery" 
is to "restore the constitutional relation 
between the United States and each of 
the States and the people thereof." 

On December 12, 1862, Mr. Lincoln 
wrote to the Hon. Fernando Wood: — 

"Understanding the phrase in the para- 
graph above quoted, 'the Southern States 
would send representatives to the next 
Congress,' to be substantially the same as 
that 'the people of the Southern States 
would cease resistance, and would rein- 
augurate, submit to, and maintain the 
national authority within the limits of 
such States, under the Constitution of the 
United States,' — I say that in such case 
the war should cease on the part of the 
United States; and that, if within a rea- 
sonable time'a full and general amnesty' 
were necessary to such end, it would not 
be withheld." 


At the very first overture of peace from 
any people of the Southern States, Mr. 
Lincoln is now so far from being inclined 
to a full and general amnesty that he im- 
poses a new and impossible condition of 
peace. An impossible condition, we say, 
not merely because it is impossible for 
us with all our armies to compel the 
abandonment of slavery, but because it 
is much worse than impossible for those 
who "control the armies now at war" 
with us to assume to themselves and then 
transfer to Mr. Lincoln the control of a 
subject over which neither of them has 
the least authority either in the federal 
or rebel constitutions. Instead of that 
professed approval of an amnesty, he 
now spurns the very first lispings of 

A little more than a year ago Mr. Lin- 
coln seized the occasion of the meeting of 
the Republican Convention at Springfield 
to declare himself, still more emphatically 
than ever, as waging the war exclusively 
to save the Union. He had been charged 
with waging it for abolition purposes, 
and his reply was: — 

President Abe : "What a nice White House this 
would be if it were not for the blacks." 

—From Punch, May 11, 1861 


"You say \-ou will not fight to free ne- 
groes. Some of them seem willing to fight 
for \ou. But no matter; fight \'ou then 
exclusively to save the Union. 1 issued 
the proclamation on purpose to aid you 
in saving the Union. Whenever you 
shall have conquered all resistance to the 
Union, if I shall urge you to continue 
fighting, it will be an apt time then for 
yo:t to declare you nill not fight to free 

President Lincoln has now justified the 
declaration that the Northern people will 
not fight to free negroes. He makes 
abolition the yoke-fellow of Union, and^ 
does urge the continuance of fighting for 
other purposes than the only one which is 
lawful or attainable. He thus falsifies 
every pledge, disregards e\'ery declara- 
tion, and violates his official oath. 

Collate this "To whom it may concern" 
letter with Mr. Lincoln's past declara- 
tions and avowals, and it will be difficult 
to restrain within decorus language the 
sense of moral indignation which arises 
in contemplating its unblushing and 


shameless perjury. Lighter terms do not 
fit. His first official act was an oath, a 
solemn oath, calculated to bind the con- 
science of an honorable man and restrain 
the acts of a dishonorable one. Many 
times has Mr. Lincoln violated his oath. 
Let the political casuists defend him. 
Now he violates his oath openly and pub- 
lishes his shame. His own words in past 
time, denying to himself any such pur- 
pose as he is now accomplishing, are all 
that is necessary to convict him of per- 
jury. Other commentary is needless. 
Political opponents can afford to be 
dumb. Out of his own mouth is the 
President condemned. . . . 

The coup d'etat does not show a more 
shocking political immorality. Other 
Presidents have been inconsistent, con- 
tradictory, and illogical. Mr. Lincoln is 
the first President who has dared to do 
that which, when charged upon him, he 
had before repudiated, branded as law- 
less, as a perjury, and as a crime. Louis 
Napoleon shed some blood to get power, 
violated some oaths, broke some pledges. 
But he broke not half so many as Abra- 


ham Lincoln has confessedly broken, and 
where the present Emperor shed rills of 
blood the present President will pour 
rivers, if thirty millions of people are to 
be kept waging the bloodiest and most 
gigantic of the world's civil wars until 
the South surrenders its property, its 
prejudices, and its local self-government. 
The Baltimore Convention, which re- 
nominated Mr. Lincoln, resolved: — 

"That we approve the determination of 
the government of the United States not 
to compromise with rebels, or to offer any 
terms of peace except such as may be 
based upon an unconditional surrender 
of their hostility, and a return to their 
first allegiance to the Constitution and 
laws of the United States; and that we 
call upon the government to maintain 
their position and to prosecute the war 
with the utmost possible vigor to the 
complete suppression of the rebellion, in 
full reliance upon the self-sacrificing pa- 
triotism, the heroic valor, and the undy- 
ing devotion of the American people to 
their country and its free institutions. 

From Harpers Weekly, 
September, 17, 1864. 


Even the Convention "of office-holders 
and contractors," as they were dubbed by 
one of his own organs; even the men of 
corruption and of shoddy who renomi- 
nated Mr. Lincoln, made but one condi- 
tion to peace — "the unconditional sur- 
render of hostility," which can only 
mean the restoration of the authority and 
integrity of the Union. To this single 
condition Mr. Lincoln subjoins "the 
abandonment of slavery." And the 
Times, his own organ, confesses that the 
people will not sustain him in demand- 
ing that ultimatum. Indeed, they will 
not. \^'hat right has the President to 
plant an insurmountable barrier in the 
paths of peace? 


I WOULD not say one unkind word of 
the President of these United States, — I 
would speak of him respectfully as the 
head of the Government; but neither 
Mr. Lincoln nor his cabinet have now 
control over national affairs. 1 believe 
most sincerely that if it was in the power 


of Abraham Lincoln and the members of 
his cabinet to undo the past, they would 
cheerfully wipe it out. I believe if they 
were able to resume again their private 
stations, and felt themselves safe from 
an injured, outraged, and deceived com- 
munity, if they felt that the laws they 
had violated would not be used against 
them, they would with joy leave the 
places of power, and give the Govern- 
ment into other hands. Why was Mr. 
Lincoln nominated at Baltimore, against 
the judgment of three-fourths of his own 
party; against the judgment of almost 
all the Republican members of the Sen- 
ate? They were opposed to the nomina- 
tion of any man who had identified him- 
self with illegal arrests, and with viola- 
tions of constitutional law. I ask you 
this question, my Republican friends, 
and I ask it with all respect and sincer- 
ity. God knows my heart,^that in this 
sad moment I cherish no resentments; I 
wish for nothing but the good of my 
country, and the salvation of its liberties. 
(Tremendous outbursts of applause. The 
chairman proposed three cheers for Gov- 


ernor Seymour, and the audience rose en 
masse and gave them, with waving of 
hats and handkerchiefs, and with the 
wildest enthusiasm.) In their private 
conversations they freely acknowledged 
that they preferred some other man than 
Mr. Lincoln. It was natural, of course, 
that those who. held place under him 
should desire his nomination. But the 
great operating cause that produced his 
nomination was this, that there were men 
in the army and others surrounding him 
who did not dare to let him go into pri- 
vate life; who did not dare to be brought 
back under the jurisdiction of the laws 
of the land, the judgment of their peers. 
(Gheers.) The nomination was made be- 
cause men who had enriched themselves 
by unworthy means from the treasury of 
the country feared to be brought to that 
account to which they will be brought 
when our Government is restored and our 
Union reinstated. (Gheers.) Mr. Lin- 
coln and his administration will not re- 
peal the law that denies you any remedy 
against wrongs done by them to our per- 
son or property, because they know that 


to do t-his is to bring themselves to judg- 
ment. They will not pursue a course that 
will give us a restored Union, because a 
restored Union reinstates the authority of 
law, and there would be an investigation 
of the frauds and failures that, in an un- 
usual degree, have marked the conduct 
of affairs during the last three and a half 

I do not mean to say that the admin- 
istration is to be condemned because, un- 
der circumstances so unusual as those 
which have existed during this war, bad 
men ha\'e taken advantage of the confu- 
sion in affairs to do acts of wrong, but I 
do complain that when these wrongs are 
done the Government deliberately passes 
laws that protect the doer and thus 
m.akes wrong-doing its own act. More- 
over, in an election like this, when the 
Government is spending such an enor- 
mous amount of money, and the liability 
to speculation is so great, the administra- 
tion that will say to contractors, as has 
been openly said in circulars, "You have 
had a good contract, out of which you 
have made money, and we expect you to 


use a part of that money to assist to re- 
place us in power," renders itself a partner 
in fraud and corruption. The "contractor 
will say to this Government, 'You shall 
not make a peace that shall put an end 
to all my profits. You called upon me to 
give my money, in violation of the laws 
of the land, to put you in power, you 
called upon me to do that which every 
great man has said is subversive of con- 
stitutional liberty and good order; and 
now, when you have gained your share 
of the triumph, you shall not turn around 
and cheat me of my share of the spoils," 
(Laughter and applause.) Has the ad- 
ministration, under these circumstances, 
the power to stop this plunder, and this 
drain upon the people of the country? 
They cannot do it; they have placed 
themselves in the power of men who can 
bring them before a grand jury and pun- 
ish them as criminals for their acts. They 
cannot retrace their steps. It is impos- 
sible for them to restore the Union and 
bring back the South to her former fra- 
ternal relationship without saying that all 
they have done for the last three vears 


has been wrong. Suppose there is a vic- 
tory, and you call upon Mr. Lincoln to 
give us again peace, prosperity, and na- 
tional happiness, — to do the work of paci- 
fication, by assuring the people of the 
South that if the}^ return they shall have 
again at least the security of their homes. 
Mr. Lincoln lifts his manacled hand and 
says, "I cannot; there is the confiscation 
law, which 1 must obey." We beg him 
that at least he will allow them to live 
under their own State governments, so 
that we may be relieved of the taxation 
necessary to maintain a military govern- 
ment. Again, Mr. Lincoln lifts a man- 
acled hand, and says, "I cannot; there is 
my proclamation; I stand before the 
country shackled by proclamations and 
shackled by acts of Congress; I can do 
nothing to pacify the South." He is pow- 
erless unless he can induce Congress to 
undo all that it has done; he cannot dis- 
regard the wishes of those who have be- 
come his masters — for one man msikes 
another his master when he enters into 
an arrangement with him that will not 
bear the inspection of the world, or the 


investigation of the laws of the land. 
(Loud cheering.) The Democratic party 
can restore the Union, and 1 beHeve it 
will. (Great applause.) If that is true, 
then I appeal to my Republican friends 
if they are not bound to give the Govern- 
ment into our hands. 


I COME to arraign for high political 
crimes and low partisan misdemeanors, 
the village politician who is Commander- 
in-Chief of the armies and navy of the 
United States. At this grave crisis of 
public affairs, we might lose sight of in- 
dividuals were it not that in the instance 
before us it is the individual who origi- 
nates measures. We might indeed for- 
get the accumulation of his individual 
treacheries toward the Constitution were 
he about to retire of his own accord to 
private life. But being a candidate for 
re-election, the country being in danger 
of yet newer and more astounding treach- 
eries at his hands, it would be the part 
of mawkish sensibility to refrain from 


discussing the candidate as he deserves 
to be discussed. It is, therefore, more the 
candidate whom I arraign than the 

I arraign candidate Lincoln upon a 
presentment substantially filed in the 
high electoral court by the grand-juries 
of the Democratic party, against two 
political criminals. It is a joint indict- 
ment — against Jefferson Davis and Abra- 
ham Lincoln. The law of bullets under 
Grant and Sherman are trying Davis; 
of them and him we have nothing to say 
to-night. We are content to let those 
tribunals alone. But the law of ballots 
under the Constitution is to try the other 
criminal on the eighth of November. 
That is the law for us and for our dis- 

If the jury is not tampered with, I have 
no fears but the setting sun of that day 
will record in letters of fire this verdict: 
"Abraham Lincoln has been guilty of 
such high political felonies and low par- 
tisan misdemeanors, that he shall be 
forthwith condemned to be for ever after 
disqualified from holding aiiy place of 


public trust or emolument under the Con- 
stitution which he has trampled upon a7id 

1 shall take the offences of my arraign- 
ment by degrees, from the gravest to the 
meanest, 'i'here are, as you will find, 
sixteen in all, from treason to thimble- 

When the first overt act of treason was 
committed, there was destroyed an era of 
good feeling. From April, 1861, to Sep- 
tember, 1862, the Democratic party, sub- 
scribing to the Crittenden resolution of 
a war to defend the integrity of the 
Union, had laid upon the altar of patri- 
otism ancient traditions and prejudices, 
and were supporting the government. 
The great thirty-five thousand Demo- 
cratic majority city of New- York had 
poured out, through its Democratic 
Mayor, and councils, and bankers, treas- 
ure and soldiers. The North was united. 
The South was divided. The fell overt 
act reversed the position. It divided the 
North. It united the South. In the ab- 
stract, the proclamation was a piece of 
folly. Of course, slave property, like 


horse propert}', changed hands wherever 
mihtary force captured it. We were all 
content wtih that. But the Democracy 
rightfully said, this is an entering wedge 
— this proclamation. It is the first act of 
giving aid and comfort to abolition ene- 
mies. It will be followed by others. It 
was so followed. Davis was exclaiming: 
"No peace without secession." Lincoln 
was vociferating: "No peace without 
abolition." Democracy said: "We are 
for peace with Union. Let secession and 
abolition perish together." And so went 
on the contest, until Lincoln sums up his 
treason in the "To-whom-it-may-con- 
cern/' and McClellan summed up his 
fidelity to his country in his watchword 
of "Union at all hazards." Time will not 
permit me to argue this count of the 
arraignments. You must argue it for 
^•ourselves on an hundred other facts. 

I arraign candidate Lincoln for homi- 
cide; the homicide by culpable negli- 
gence, as defined by old law\'ers — a form 
of manslaughter, indeed. Every soldier 
slain in the campaign to vindicate "my 
plan" of an overland march from the 


Rapidan to the James; every soldier 
killed in the Florida campaign to win a 
State government and a representative to 
the Baltimore Convention; each soldier 
who lies buried on the margins of the 
Red River, where General Banks led his 
cotton-gathering veterans; all soldiers 
sacrificed to the blunders of a civilian 
general who 

"never set a squadron in the field, 

Nor the division of a battle knows 
More than a spinster;" 

and, alas! every brave Union volunteer 
who has been famished or fevered into a 
grave beside a Southern prison — each and 
all should have written upon the rude 
head-stone above him. : "Slain by the 
culpable negligence of Abraham Lin- 
coln." Because what profit even of sub- 
jugation, to say nothing of a profit to- 
ward restoring the Union, did the "my- 
plan" march, or the other campaigns, 
evolve? There was the most profitless 
slaughter in each. Victories! Ay! the 
bulletins said so. Accept them! There 


have, then, been bulletin victories 
enough; but how worthless is glory with- 
out results! The war. as one of desola- 
tion, of geographical occupation, of sub- 
jugation, of approximate annihilation, 
has been a dreadful success. But (in the 
spirit of the Chicago platform, so shame- 
fully perverted by the press and pulpit) 
as a war to restore the Union, it has been 
an experiment in the hands of Abraham 
Lincoln, and a diplomatic failure upon 
the valor of the slain. 

"But, what good came of it at last?" 
Quoth little Peterkin; 
"Why, that I cannot tell," said he; 
"But 'twas a famous victory!" 

Yes, we have had victories enough; but 
where has been, and where save under 
McClellan will be, the statesmanship to 
turn them to account? 

In 1861 he wanted money and sent 
Chase to the New- York banks. The loans 
thus obtained saved Washington and the 
national credit. The money was given 
on the faith of a war for the Union. 


Lincoln not only broke faith in the mat- 
ter with the moneyed interests, by chang- 
ing the war into one of abolition, desola- 
tion, extermination, and subjugation, but 
he inaugurated treacherous attacks on 
these very banks by establishing national 
pet institutions and annoying the State 
banks by vexatious taxations. Lincoln, 
in 1863, levied a tax of three per cent 
on incomes of that year ending Decem- 
ber. Six months after the year had 
passed, (and the tax had been collected 
and incomes adjusted, or perhaps surplus 
spent upon the faith of prior representa- 
tions,) a retro-active tax of five per cent 
additional is added for the same time. 
Was not the three per cent collected un- 
der false pretences? Have you ever com- 
pared the backs of the two issues of 
postage currency? Upon the first you 
find, "Receivable for all dues less than 
five dollars;" upon the last issue is added 
the words, "except custom.s." Well, by 
true construction of language, the addi- 
tional words created an exception which 
did not previously exist. Yet, although 
the currency first obtained popularity be- 


cause receivable for fractional custom- 
house dues, and at first so taken, it was 
shortly disallowed, and faith broken. I 
call all these things the obtaining of 
money and credit by false pretences and 

I arraign Lincoln for forgery. One 
class of forgery is the alteration of figures, 
accounts, and statistics cf a pecuniary 
nature in order to deceive creditors. Who 
so great a debtor in the world as these 
United States? Who has so shamefully 
taxed upon the credulity of creditors by 
falsifying, from time to time, the figures 
of the national debt account, as Abraham 
Lincoln? Nor will I stop to argue this, 
because the newspapers and money-arti- 
cles of the press have anticipated me 

Were the policies of Mr. Lincoln's 
party ever so pure and certain, ever so 
sure of beneficial results, and I approved 
them, I would not trust them four years 
longer in his hands after the experience 
of the past three years. There has been 
Ao such cunning trickster since the days 
of Burr; and Burr was at least a gentle- 


man and a scholar! Not even Tyler was 
so inordinately vain of power. He exer- 
cises it as recklessly as Bomba did! rie 
is surrounded by more dangerous men 
that ever haunted the ante-rooms of the 
imbecile Louis XI 11.! I profoundly pity 
the rebels under the despotism of Davis. 
Yet that is at least an educated, intelli- 
gent, and respectable despotism. ' It acts 
within the forms of law and constitutions. 
The despotism of centralized power which 
Lincoln is establishing is a vulgar and 
debasing despotism — one which appeals 
to the fears of the pocket for its suprem- 
acy; and relies upon purse and sword as 
a usurpation over free ballot and Con- 

IK X009. oi^-o/i5o